Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici 'No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind...'
John Donne

Mr Ejaz, I could not agree more with you and find it an absolute truth that once we see our selves all as one, the magic and potential to progress, to heal, to develope as individuals and as nations in peace will be unlimited.

We must never forget our responsibility to one another. Turning a blind eye will not change the course of a storm. Are we proud of the history we are creating and will leave behind? What have we been part of? What achievements? What downfalls? Where is the difference?

Unless we awaken the deep conciousness within us that binds us as one, that turns compassion into the fire of brotherhood, we will be accountable for the collapse of our nation. Each one of us becasue indifference is unacceptable when so much is at stake.

Suicide Note of a HIV Patient To reiterate for any one who may have misunderstood my comments.Many diseases have their primary cause in the abuse of our bodies. I believe every patient, no matter what their illness, no matter how they have developed it deserves to be treated professionally and other wise with the utmost respect and consideration. There is no differentiation in my eyes between an HIV sufferer and another ill person. They both need healing, both need to be supported and given the best care.

Suicide Note of a HIV Patient Re: # 16
I understand your points, especially concerning the illness spreading to children and you are entitled to your own opinion. But in terms of health, in regards to life and death there should be absolutely NO BLAME culture. Whatever the condition, a patient is entitled to a respectful and dignified chance on surviving. What is the difference then between an alcoholic 30 year old man who has a busted liver, an overweight mother with diabetes and blocked up arteries needing heart transplant, a lung cancer smoker, a heroine addict on methadone and an Aids victim? Each is accountable for the disease manifesting through their past actions but should we sit and place blame? Should we look upon them with disgust and blame? Put salt in their wounds? Or focus on recovery? And prevention? That is the purpose of this write up. The spread of sexually transmitted diseases is not only an individuals morallity that is why our take also involves society and its response, and responsibilities.

Suicide Note of a HIV Patient 'let he without sin cast the first stone'
Ignorance still remains incurable it seems. People are very quick to pass shallow judgements that inflict greater suffering than physical illness. What is very disheartening is that the very people who are endowed with the responsibility to heal and nurture as part of a health care system, they are not capable of treating patients with absolute sensitivity and confidentiality. Instead of assisting in recovery and giving hope as they are meant to, destroy the spirit of a young boy by isolating him casting stones of contempt as though sinless. Educating the masses and providing the support to patients, families and relatives in coping with the disease is necessary, especially because this is a world wide problem.
In the slums of Africa, millions lie left to die with their bodies under attack, abandoned by the rest of humanity. For those who feel entitled in ostracising others based on their narrow thinking do not stop to think that the sick and the poor and the needy are a test on humanity, a test to awaken the love, compassion, hope and life within the human spirit. Alas failing... they do not realise they are the dirt of society, the rotten murderers.

Medical Lessons from the Death of a Poet Dear Sir,
Thank you for sharing this article which not only spreads awareness but reflects that despite many advances in health care and the ongoing battle against life threatening diseases there will be those unfortunate cases of lives lost due to mismanagement of their conditions. As a health professional I know that there is immense responsibility upon us to deliever nothing but excellent diagnosis, treatment plans, and follow up. The hurdles of resources, clinical tests, drug risk-benefit and time continue to challenge even the best of healthcare teams around the world. The price of error is life.
In response to the issues raised indeed survival rate improves with the use of monoclonal antibodies in combination with chemo in early stages, but that would be specific to the type of cancer as not all types can be treated this way. The debate of drug companies putting extortionate price tags on life saving drugs is on going and more so in the West where governments refuse to take it upon themselves to pay for treatments. Unfortunately in developing nations health care is still very much a privelege of the rich but no Doctor should withold treatment on just assumption. Options must always be presented to patients.
On the issue of why drugs like combiflam are still prescirbed-Ibroprufen like many drugs can cause extremely nasty side effects and its suitability for the form of pain being treated must always be considered alongside the tolerability of the patient.

You are a good example of how patients, and families can increase awareness and improve disease management alongside healthcare professionalsin a no-blame manner. We are all accountable for our patients yet we know life is in the hands of a Greater being. I am saddened by the your hard struggle and the loss of your dear wife. My sincere condolances and prayers for you.

Half a Confession IV (final) TO BE DEAD AND STILL IN LOVE!

> St Martens hospital! It is a hospital in Canterbury for the mentally ill. I
> spent 2 weeks there as a student (part of our rotation;)….a period
> where the line separating sanity from the other side became as thin as a
> hair. And I honestly do not know what is more painful to see, a body in pain
> or a mind insane? Touched with fire, was a title of a book about how artists
> tend to have psychiatric issues. I began reading it about that time and felt
> just as this passion for knowledge and creativity is in me, I have been
> touched with fire too…and if there is no check…I would spiral into myself
> and loose touch with reality.
>
> At first glance the patients there do not `look` sick. A 70 year old woman
> looked like an average 70 yr old woman but the difference surfaces- she was convinced
> she was pregnant and completely refused to take her medication because ``it will
> kill the baby``.

> I remember meeting this girl…beautiful, tall with a face like the moon…convinced
> that she was a saint…and as she sat there speaking in riddles, oblivious of her
> schizophrenic truth, her mother breaks down because you can not stop loving your
> daughter, even though she frightens the hell out of you. The mad are
> human…but how they leaves us so disconcerted and uneasy. A tough two weeks. A reality far from the dreams of rainbows and butterflies.
>
> So I was more comfortable in a medical hospital. Although some days
> watching death and pain up-front was too disturbing to put in words, one
> learned to focus. I worked on an oncology ward. Patients would
> vomit as they approached the hospital for chemo. Even before the drugs were
> swimming in their blood, and burning their veins, the memory of it all was
> enough to make them vomit. How their world falls apart as their body becomes
> its own enemy, starves itself. I learned to appreciate every moment I can
> stand and breath without pain.
>
> Every patient was unique. Some wanted to fight, to live, to go home and ride
> their horse, to smile and I was able to talk about how shalwar kameez is not
> a sari as I browsed through their charts..medical histories, divorced mother
> of 2, occupation Doctor! The glares of irony as she watches her life trade places.
>
> Others had given up, or were still in denial…they didn`t even see me as I
> worked, tears streamed down their faces….Possibly a British thing, be
> reserved about the pain…stone faced…silently swallow the tears because `we
> do not want to attract attention`. I was silent with them, soft with them
> and listened more.
>
> Pyari was a kind ive never met…yet I know she rages in many of those dying
> women. In all of us. Reading Half confessions has illustrated how wel you can get
> into the mind of another... its an art and here is my take on the story.

Some Memories never fade. And even on ones death bed, those people come come, every single one. Temporal, one does not need a photographic memory to experience a rush of the past.
> `You said my photographic memory was an unfair aid for those scholastic
> skirmishes? I vividly recall every moment I shared with Kid.` Pyari, if you
> hear me it is not only the curse of those with photographic memories, i
> assure you.
>
>
> ``Why do you want me to lose self respect, vegetate and whither away? This
> will never happen. Your resolve not to be my Kevorkian oddly gives me
> strength.`` I wonder why that is? May be to know one still lives and has a
> choice to live well despite not possessing and being possessed by their true
> love. That the world doesn`t stop…and survival of self is beyond any
> external control.
>

> When your companions are hallucinations and machines, chemicals making you sick in the stomach, sick in the brain, the unimaginably hollow are the days. Unbearably long.
> ``...the night passes by somehow -- but the day drags on interminably.`` Mind you, I do not feel sorry that she was sick. I feel pity for her that after all the people she brought close, no one was there beside her..and even he…the shit, did not have the courtesy to be
> there. He clears his concscience with just a few letters. Could he not hear what she was
> saying?…her anger, her submission to him, ultimately the wishes of a dying
> woman? To come clean. But then again I forget `E` yes that complicated constant
> in his life. But all he gave back were words…and even I can be called
> blasphemous for saying words mean nothing. They are merely foam on the
> surface of a stream. BUBBLES BURSTING INTO NOTHINGNESS...

``…and I feel so close to the Ultimate Force`` to know it is time…and look
> back at life brings ``God`` in the picture big time!!!!then the spiritual
> pyari, the peaceful pyari, the saved pyari, the pyari who has forgiven
> emerges out of her anger. ``but I still do believe in goodness -- your new
> world order be good -- no prophets, no rituals, no dogmas -- just
> individual`s conscience as the guide.`` I hope you are right pyari.
>
> My favourite bit!!!!!!``you really think I would ask you to intercede? Hah --
> I have to pay my dues -- we all do -- inescapable --and you know very well
> that I have never deliberately hurt anyone -- only myself -- and of course
> my loved ones -- we all have a right to do so -- I have a right to do so…``
> Really paayaari? Or have you justified this to feel lighter and somewhat
> relinquish the apologies you owe?

>Pyari loved to love and leave...even in the end she did the same...because
> that is all she expereinced in the past...being loved and being left!``I was
> lulled by love induced stupor -- classic euphoric blindness -- and when I
> returned to reality he was gone`` We can be so stupid at times, and till now
> we romanticize this swept away emotion, we wait for the serotonins to kick
> in and then fly with holl``o``wood imaginings of what being in love is. Blindly accepting, ``falling`` into a self induced hypnosis…a cancer of the heart…attacking itself…then swimming into the ocean in delirium, when the opium wears off... when the aching limbs go limp you find
> your self miles away from the shore, miles away from the horizon…in the
> deep. No return.

> Love conquers all. That is what i see in the story. As Pyari completed her suicide notes in instalments she came to terms with her first love being her eternal love…and all the twists
> and turns she took her on her journey away from him brought her right back to him. With him is where she eventually reached. Why did she still love him when he left her to become what she became…incomplete, bitter, disillusioned, vulnerable, poisonous?
> Why did she still love him so intenesely, that her last words ever, were to him? Because
> love conquers all, even pain of betrayal and the ache of rejection. Imagine
> temporal, the words she wrote, the swearing, the cussing, was part of a long last
> exhale, uninhibited, honest yet ending with love…
>
`put me next to the Ghalib books on your shelf, promise...`

Even dead she wanted to remain close to him…the important word to not above is not Ghalib…it is YOUR! She was not a bitch, she was just still in love with him. Dead and still in
> love.

> What I am confused about is do I like pyari…or not. I don`t know, let me
> wait to find an urn next to some Ghalib books on a shelf and make that
> decision. Facinating..To be dead and still in love...